


A Short Drabble

by Lady_Zephyr



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Cooking, Drinking, Gen, Reminiscing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-17
Updated: 2018-12-17
Packaged: 2019-09-20 17:42:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17027172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Zephyr/pseuds/Lady_Zephyr
Summary: On a rare night alone, Ignis decides to drink.





	A Short Drabble

**Author's Note:**

> I wasn't going to post this here since it's just a tiny drabble, but since my tumblr is marked nsfw, there's a chance it'll disappear tomorrow and I didn't really want that to happen. So enjoy it, I guess.

I find myself staring down at my hands. The fingers are long, what some might even call elegant. My nails are trimmed and free of dirt. The cuticles are even for the most part, and the palms are covered with lines - a hundred tiny cracks and folds coming together to form the epidermis. The skin itself is a little dry. Nothing a good moisturizer won’t fix, but it’s been a while since I’ve applied any.

My gloves sit next to me on the bed side table. A gift from my uncle for my 20th birthday. They’re soft, well worn with use, and fit comfortably around my hands. I don’t remove them often, usually only to eat, bathe, or sleep.

Tonight I am alone. The other three have gone off on some escapade around the city, but I have chosen my solitude. It’s not often I am graced with time alone and I intend to savor it.

Earlier I decided to make myself my favorite dessert. A cup of flower, a dash of sugar, a hint of salt and duscaen orange zest - among other ingredients. I pour a glass of wine to savor while I wait and as I’m pulling the cake out of the oven, so too am I draining the last of the bottle.

Looking back, it was probably a bad choice to drink while in one’s lonesome, but I’ll just have to keep that in mind for the next time.

I can feel the alcohol dancing through my body as I finish off a slice of cake and wrap the rest for my companions. If I were a reckless man, I might use this opportunity to march into the city and find my friends - tell them exactly what’s on my mind. But I am not a reckless man. So I decide instead to open a second bottle of wine and take a bath.

Freshly bathed, I take a seat on the edge of the bed, once again staring down at my hands.

I hate them.

For as much as they have done to help the innocent, they have caused just as much destruction. Beyond the walls of civilization it is kill or be killed, and I much prefer the former. Although they are clean and blemish free, I can still see the blood of each creature unlucky enough to think we were a threat. I can still feel the spray of ichor from every demon my daggers have pierced.

Another glass of wine and my head is spinning. Somehow I’ve managed to get dressed, and I’ve migrated to a chair on the balcony. It’s hot here, so unbelievably hot, even at night. It was warm back home too, but not like this. There are street performers below and the tune they play is unfamiliar. The sounds are wrong, the smells, while delicious, are foreign, and even the night sky has a strange ethereal glow.

I look back down at my hands.

I’m still clutching the bottle of wine. I take another drink straight from the bottle and a few drops spill down my chin. I want to go home. I want go to back to my apartment across the street from the Citadel. I want to go back to paperwork, cleaning the prince’s apartment, sparring with Gladiolus, making an extra lunch for Prompto.

Tears roll down my cheeks, and although the air is hot and humid, I have never felt more cold and alone. With blood stained hands, I wipe away the tears and make my way back into the hotel room. The bottle is left beside the chair. I’ll deal with it in the morning.

The bed is calling my name and so I slip between the sheets. I look at my hands one more time and they curl into fists. I realize I have spent more time wallowing in sorrow than savoring my solitude. I wonder if my friends ever have moments like this and I decide they probably do. It’s a conversation for another night though. I close my eyes and pray to whatever deity might be listening to bless me with a dreamless sleep.


End file.
